Wet and gloomy afternoon and evening. The day started with sun and mild temps but by afternoon it was raining and after about an hour of rain, has stayed cloudy. Current temp is 68F. The air feels damp outside but nice.
I went to church this morning but I've had an upset stomach all afternoon. I actually went to bed around 2 and didn't get up until nearly 5 p.m. Woke up twice with acid reflux and thought I was going to be sick. I wasn't but my tummy still feels a bit wonky. Not sure why. I ate some potato chips because I wanted salty. I'm sitting here thinking that onion rings sounds delightful. I have not idea what is going on with all that. For those with a bent sense of humor. I'm not pregnant. It would be both a miracle and an immaculate conception.
Tomorrow Camp NaNoWriMo begins and I'm about as unprepared as I'll ever be but I'm going to try this. It's only 30,000 words for heaven's sake. Bad words count so I'll make the effort. My cabin mates seem nice and it will probably lead to some new friendships. So, I'll go with it.
I must remember to ask my doctor again about my SED rate. The podiatrist said my numbers were normal. O.k. What's that about? Normal? That's the same thing my primary care said three months ago. So, if they're normal, what do I have and why do I need to take these pills that are doing other things to me?
I left the house for about an hour tonight. I simply felt the need to get out and alone. I mean, I am alone. David is here but we hardly see each other. He was watching t.v. and I craved isolation. I went to Sonic, not the one in the video, and had onion rings. I sat at the end of the parking lot, facing a row of trees. It was quiet except for the music.
There is this place I am in and I'm not sure if I like it much. I don't feel depressed really. Physically, I think I'm o.k. but in my head is another matter. I can't put it into words, which for me, is an oddity in itself. I'm a writer. I can put anything into words. But not this, not here, maybe not anywhere. I read something today that was so on target and spoke about "ruins of life". It stopped me in my tracks, actually. I never thought in those terms. In fact, I've had trouble defining exactly what was wrong or what term described it. Ruins was so apt that I simply stared at the word. I had this image in my head of this huge castle, with its battlements, and towers, and parapets in ruins, stones tumbled all around with the skeleton of the structure standing against a bleak sky. My life. Every turret, every bastion, every wall breached and broken down. I stand in the central courtyard, alone, starting at this huge ruin that once was a jewel set on a mountain, with pennants and banners waving in the gentle breezes and sunshine. Now, it lies in ruins. It fit so well with what I am feeling that I couldn't shake it. Even now, hours later it is an image that remains.
I'm too old to rebuild, even if I had the energy. I don't. It was today that I realized I'm at the end of something. I don't know what. On my way back home tonight I considered my options. I can keep hoping for something good to happen. I can sit and fret over the ruins. I can live in the moment with what I have in my hand. It dawned on me that was why I spend time doing things that don't move. I read, blogs, books, and news. I crochet. I write. I play a solitary games. There is much that needs doing around me but I don't do it. I don't want to do it because there is no future in any of it. I find myself seeing no further than now. Time doesn't heal all wounds. It doesn't really get better. It simply keeps moving forward, carrying everything in stasis.
Perhaps it is possible for some people make things happen. I've lost the knack for that and the desire. I won't bore anyone with details but lets just say life hasn't been very kind. I was fortunate to have a small group of people who took care of me and gave me a great deal of love. They're mostly gone now. Only a few remain. A minister once looked at me and said, "You're a fighter." I didn't say anything and no one in that room knew anything about my life. He wasn't lying. I've always fought for every inch of ground because that was my lot in life. But even warriors grow weary and the best fighter will eventually be beaten. I'm tired.
Before I go to bed, remember that 80's song, I Need A Hero by Bonnie Tyler, it was one of my favorite songs. Maybe because the lyrics were mine in some way.
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